THE LUCK OF THE IRISH
woman under discussion was his wife, William would have side-stepped the issue and gone on. But the hesitance, the indecision, were enough to convince William that this was an old story.
"Well, bo?"
The man shrugged, turned abruptly, and re-entered the restaurant.
"A good hunch," said William, eying the door speculatively. "Well, Bill, let's waltz."
And waltz he did. Not that he was afraid, but these upper Broadway swells had a way of convincing the police that the hoi polloi (which included William) were eternally in the wrong, no matter what the argument might be, and he appreciated the weakness of his case. The girl had disappeared, and it was up to him to follow her example.
His "Haw-haw!" suddenly broke the silence in the deserted street. A seven-dollar meerschaum and a trip around the world!
"And ten pink nails, Isobel! The luck of the Irish."
